Love, I'll Never Hurt You
by LoveFueledHate
Summary: After he lost everything Charles moved to a small town in the countryside. The townspeople are all very friendly and the scenery is lovely but soon Death comes for a visit and he seems to have his eyes set on Charles. Dark!Stalker HumanAU
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: After he lost everything Charles moved to a small town in the countryside. The townspeople are all very friendly and the scenery is lovely but soon Death comes for a visit and he seems to have his eyes on Charles. Dark!HumanAU  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Erik/Charles  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Character death, Stalking, Death/rape threats, Blood, Kidnapping, Dub-con

**Disclaimer**: Marvel's characters.

Other chapters will be longer than this; this is just the prologue to see if you all are interested.

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Charles let the flowers slip from his loose grip and fall to land with a soft bounce on the freshly packed earth beneath him. He took in a deep breath to try to steady the emotions swirling around in his head, he tried to not show any of the emotions even though at the corners of his eyes collected tears.

The tears were ready to be shed for the loss of Sharon, his mother. He stood before her grave, reading over the words carved into the white headstone guarded by an angel.

_Sharon Xavier  
>(1924-1966)<br>Devoted wife and beloved Mother_

He had been the one to pick out what the headstone read but that didn't mean he felt that way about her. Sharon hadn't been much of a mother to him, not since the day his father had died. After that day she shut him off and grew cold toward him. She began drinking to forget how much he looked like his father and it only got worse as he grew up. It got to the point where she was no longer able to be sober in his presence.

That was about the time she suddenly brought home her new husband, Kurt Marko. Kurt was a man she had known less than a month but married anyway. Charles had thought that meant Kurt would make her happy enough to get her to stop attempting to drink herself to death but he'd been wrong.

Kurt only used his mother for his father's money; he verbally abused her and told her just to off herself for all the use she was to the world. Charles had tried to stop him from yelling at her once but Kurt's son, Cain, quickly put him in his place. He was beaten into submission and forced to just 'stay out of it' while Kurt actually encouraged his mother's drinking problem.

Charles would try his best to comfort Sharon which only proved to backfire since he was practically a clone of her former husband by this time. When nothing he did seemed to get through to her Charles put all of his focus into his school work. He had big dreams of getting out of this house and leaving all these horrors behind and he did.

He was in the middle of his first year away at university when his mother passed away. He had been forced to leave school because the day his mother died Kurt and Cain took his father's entire fortune and left. They left Charles practically penniless except for the trust fund his father had opened for him the day he was born. There was hundreds of thousands of dollars locked away, waiting for him but he couldn't access any of it until his was twenty-one.

He was only nineteen and now had nowhere to go. He couldn't even go back to his childhood home. Kurt was selling the large estate to get the profits for himself and since he owned it now in accordance with Sharon's will Charles could do nothing about it.

Charles was more than sure that Kurt had his mother's will rewritten to favor himself and Cain, making sure they got everything while Charles didn't get a dime. He must have had her sign it when she was out of her right mind from the alcohol while Charles was away at school and unable to watch over her or help take care of family affairs.

He stared at the grave, taking in the expensive white angelic headstone and the large oak tree it rested beneath a moment longer before turning away. At least Kurt had had the decency to pay for the funeral even if he hadn't attended it himself.

As he walked away Charles reminded himself that even though Kurt had pushed her into drinking more it was ultimately his mother's choice to take this early death. She had spent most of his life trying to forget his existence and therefore she didn't really deserve the tears that now left glistening trails of salt down his cheeks.

Lights slowly began to flicker to life in various areas around the cemetery. They were to guide those who were still 'visiting' toward the exits after the sun went down but they also seemed to give this place an almost serene look, as if the dead really were allowed to rest in peace here.

Charles looked around and couldn't help but scoff at the strangely twisted beauty that was the white headstones glowing in the dim golden lights. He stopped walking a moment and shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked back at his mother's grave.

This hadn't been what she wanted when she died. She had once told him that she wished to be cremated and scattered along the edge of the forest on their family's estate just as his father had been. Charles couldn't give her that though, he was not the one that made all the arrangements. He recalled Kurt saying over the phone that it was his money and his wife and he'd get rid of her the way he wanted.

"A beautiful night to be out, isn't it?"

Charles jumped; he had been so lost in thought that the question caught him completely off guard. Slowly, he turned around to see a man standing not too far from him. He was tall, well groomed and very handsome, with dark hair and the most alluring blue-green eyes Charles had ever seen.

As they locked gazes though Charles could have sworn he saw a flash of something dark behind those eyes. A shiver crept up his spine and he took an unconscious step back. "Yes, it's a very lovely night tonight." He offered a faint smile that faded when the man began walking closer to him.

He didn't know why but something akin to fear began to twist in his gut, making him want to turn and run. He would later just say that it was the fact it was very dark out and that they were in a cemetery. A cemetery was not the type of place that normal people held conversations at unless they were talking of the loved ones they had just lost.

When the man was within arm's reach Charles' need to run was at its strongest but instead of giving into the feeling he stood his ground. He couldn't help the feeling that the man was about to grab him as he drew nearer but in fact he just kept walking, only stopping briefly to whisper a "have a nice night" before being on his way.

Charles turned around and watched as the man left the cemetery and disappeared into the night. Once the man was completely out of sight Charles let out a long sigh he hadn't realized his been holding in. He stood there for a few more minutes trying to understand why that man, who had asked a friendly question and had showed no negative intentions, had caused him to feel fear for the first time since he left home.

With a shake of his head he let the incident slip from his already troubled mind and headed out toward the cemetery's main gate.

As he headed toward his car he fished around in his pockets to find his keys. Kurt had been kind enough to let him have all of his stuff and his father's old car to put it in but nothing more.

Lucky for him Kurt hadn't been there when he had been gathering his things so he was able to empty the safe his mother had kept emergency funds in. It was only a few hundred dollars but that would get him a place to stay and food until he could get a proper job.

First thing's first though, he had to get the hell out of New York. There were too many memories and ghosts for him here and the farther away he was the better.

When Charles finally pulled his keys out of his pocket he ended up dropping them on the asphalt. With a quiet curse he bent down to pick them up and instantly felt eyes on him. A shiver crept up his spine and he stood up, looking around. No one was there. He quickly unlocked the car and got in.

As he pulled out of his parking spot the man from the cemetery stepped out of the shadows and watched him as he drove away…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** Sorry, starts out kinda boring. I swear this gets better/creepier in later chapters!  
>North Hero* is a real place in Vermont. I've never been there all I know is it looks very pretty and I just needed a namelocation of a small town. So whatever I say about buildings, people and general locations is all made up. (Has no imagination for naming towns)  
>Heartsick* is by Chelsea Cain, I've not read it but my friend HIGHLY recommends it.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter I<br>Hello**

Charles smiled softly to himself as his fingers slowly traced over the dust covered leather binding of the book he was holding in his hands. The hard material welcomed his touch and warmed the longer he held on to it. Turning the book over in his hands he looked at the author's name imprinted on the spine then up at the rows and rows of book that surrounded him until he found the perfect place for it.

The shelf was a little too high for him to reach easily so he stepped up on the first shelf and slid the book into place until he fingers could no longer push the spine any farther away. Stepping down he looked up at the book and smiled again before turning back to the cart of books behind him.

He had been working at the small used bookstore ever since he came to North Hero* three weeks ago. In that short time he had managed to make this place home and it was more of a real home than Westchester had ever been.

The town was small, mostly because it was located on an island just off of Vermont but the people were all very welcoming. Everyone he met had greeted him smile when they realized he'd just moved in. Out of all the people he had met so far the one he couldn't thank enough was the owner of the used bookstore that given him this job and a place to stay.

The first night he had been in town would have been him sleeping in his car if not for her.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Charles pulled over to the side of the road and rested his head on the steering wheel. He let out a long, slow breath before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. When he opened him he just stared out his windshield at the rain that was crashing down on the hood of his car. Just taking a minute to listen to the sound of the rain and the engine of his car was helping to settle his nerves.

He wasn't sure how but he had gotten turned around and lost for the nth time that night. The first time he had gotten lost he somehow ended up taking the wrong exit and crossed a bridge to find himself on the island, all the other times he had gotten lost was in search of a motel or some kind of place to stay for the night. Long story short that search was turning out fruitless.

His attention turned to the shops that lined the sides of the street, all seemed to be closed but one. He frowned and unbuckled his seatbelt. As soon as he got out of the car he was drenched in freezing cold rain and by the time he made it to the shop's door he was already dripping.

He looked inside and tried the door handle before noticing the 'closed' sign. He knocked on the small glass window imbedded in the door and waited a moment, hoping that owner of the shop would come and see him, maybe let him in a moment if not just give him directions.

Just as he turned away an old woman hobbled out from the back of the shop and spotted him as he started walking away. "Excuse me!" She called as she moved to the door and opened it. "Did you need something young man?"

Charles turned to face her with a smile. "I was wondering if you could give me directions." He said, his voice just barely reaching her over the sound of the crashing rain.

"Come in out of the rain sweetie and I'll see if I can help."

Charles nodded a thanks and walked passed her as she held the door open for him and into the shop. The smell of old paper and ink greeted his senses like an old friend and he couldn't help but smile a little more even though his clothes were practically soaked through and he was shivering as a result.

The book store was old, not one of those big chain type stores that were starting to pop up almost everywhere nowadays putting ma and pa stores like this one out of business. It reminded him of his father's study back in the mansion, the one room besides his own that he spent most of his time in since he wasn't allowed outside. He felt the stress of getting lost flowing out of him the longer he stood in the store just allowing his senses to be flooded by the strange familiarity.

Charles loved the sound of opening a new book, it was like a symphony as the new spine bent and cracked and the fresh pages slid evenly against each other but nothing beat the feel of an old book. A book that had been touched and read and already enjoyed by other people, people that had escaped into the story just as he did, it was a whole different experience than to have one that was new.

"So how can I help you?" The old lady asked as she pulled the door shut, cutting off the louder sound of the rain and replacing it a small bell ringing softly above the to alert anyone in the back that there was a new customer when the store was open.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could give me directions to the nearest motel or hotel. You see I just got to town and I'm only here because I got lost and kept getting lost. I- I just need a place to stay." He explained. Pushing his floppy, wet hair back out of his face his smiled softly as the old woman stared at him, slowly processing his request.

"Ah, so you're new around here."

"Yes." He nodded, his hair falling back in the way of his face when he did so.

"Well there isn't a motel around here." She informed him as she shuffled over to the register.

Charles' shoulders slumped as a sigh escaped him when he realized that meant he had to sleep in his car for the night. He ran a hand through his wet hair and scratched the back of his neck as he contemplated the situation. "Well, thank you for your help anyway Ma'am." He nodded to her as he turned to walk out of the used book store.

"Hold up there young man. Are you looking to stay in town for a while?" The woman called as she disappeared below the register.

Charles stopped just as he set his hand on the door knob to open it and looked over. "Well I was thinking of moving here, yes, but I only have enough money for a motel room and food until I find a job." He smiled briefly at her when she reappeared and looked at him with her warm brown eyes.

"Are you running from something?" She asked tilting her had to the side.

"Not really Ma'am, I just have nowhere to go." He lowered his gaze as he began thinking about the two lives he'd just lost, the one at home with his mother and then the better one he had had when he was away at university. He had had friends there, a roommate that actually liked him and amazing professors that actually challenged his intellect until his teacher in high school. He had loved his life when he was away at Oxford.

"Well then Mr…" She trailed off waiting for him to introduce himself.

When he realized he hadn't done that already he could have hit himself, if there was one useful thing his mother made sure to teach him it was manners. He moved closer and held his hand out. "Sorry, I'm Charles Xavier." He said with a flash of a brilliant smile.

She firmly shook his hand, "I'm Mrs. Annette Frost. My daughter is the mayor and my future son-in-law is the chief of police here in town."

Charles wasn't sure if she told him that last part as a way to intimidate him and make sure he wasn't trying to pull any funny business or not but it certainly worked. If he had been planning a robbery, well first he rob a book store, he was smarter than that, but he certainly would want to rob or harm the police chief's mother. He swallowed hard and put on another smile. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Frost."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Mr. Xavier."

"Please, just call me Charles." Being called 'Mr. Xavier' just made him think of his father and the day his mother's will was read saying he was left nothing. The men had looked at him with a pitying look and pat his shoulder saying, 'it will be alright Mr. Xavier, they couldn't touch the trust fund you father set up for you.'

"Alright, Charles, well I happen to have somewhere you can stay." She smiled kindly at him before walking out from behind the register.

"Really? Oh, I couldn't, I don't want to be any trouble." He said biting his lower lip.

"Nonsense! In fact a handsome boy like you could help me out greatly." She said resting her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. "You see, you need work and a place to stay and I need someone to help run the shop which happens to have a small apartment above it." She explained farther, smiling when she saw the smile that was slowly pulling at the corners of Charles' lovely ruby lips.

"You mean you'd give me a job as well?" Charles couldn't believe it, he really couldn't. How could someone be this nice to someone they had known for less than twenty minutes?

"Of course I would. I'm getting too old to go back and forth between my home and this shop and with a face like yours." She pinched his cheek like many people's grandmother's might after not seeing them for a while and smiled broadly, "You're sure to bring in a lot more customers than an old woman like myself."

"I don't think I can thank you enough."

"Thank me by getting your things in here so I can call Sebastian to take me home already." She smiled, gently shoving him toward the door. "He's going to be mad I'm dragging him out of bed but that's what he gets for not letting me drive anymore and for not letting me live with him and my daughter." She babbled on, laughing to herself.

Charles smiled at her then went back out in the rain and quickly grabbed his suit case that had most of his clothes in it as well at the satchel he had put the money from his mother's safe in. He made sure to lock the car before heading back inside but just as he turned around he felt eyes on him again. His breath caught in his throat as he turned and looked around the empty street.

No lights were on except the street lamps which lined the roads so divers could see more clearly. All of the shops were closed up and there wasn't a soul on this street to be seen other than himself. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him though. A shiver passed through him as he thought back to the parking lot of the graveyard when he had dropped his keys then to the man that had startled him.

"Are you coming back inside?" Mrs. Shaw called out to him snapping him from his thoughts.

"Yes Ma'am." He said looked back at her with a smile before giving his surrounding another look over. When he still saw no one else he turned and followed her back inside.

"Alright, I've called my son to come and get me, so you'll get to meet him as well. Let me show you to your new place first." She smiled the headed toward the back of the store.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Charles hummed to himself as he finished putting the additions to the store away in their proper place. He pushed the empty cart down the small aisle, smiling as he watched the light shine through the large storefront windows, catching the dust and making it shine in the light. In this store was where he found his true inner peace.

Today was just beginning and already there were a couple girls floating around that small store, looking at books then over at him then back to the books. Mrs. Frost had been right, he did bring in a lot more customers though most of them were girls but many of them actually bought something if he suggested it to them.

He went to stand behind the register just as one of the girls seemed to gather the courage up to walk over and ask him about the book she held in her hands. "Excuse me," She glanced at his name tag, "Charles. Do you know if this book is any good? Someone recommended it but I'm not really sure." She held the book out for him to see the title of it.

He reached out and took it from her, leaning over the counter he looked over the book and opened it to a seemingly random page. "How about you read these two pages then ask me again if you still aren't sure." He smiled kindly at her, causing her to blush as she took the book back from him. He pointed her over to the set of chairs and table not too far away so she could sit comfortably and read.

He looked around the small store before turning his attention to the outside world. Just as he did a frown pulled at the corners of his lips seeing the town's police chief, Sebastian Shaw, crossing the street and heading toward the store.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay so the store is supposed to open at 7 am, I'll be here tomorrow since I'm sure you won't be up at that time and I'll give you farther instructions on inventory and things like that." Mrs. Frost said as she put her arms in the coat Charles was holding for her.

Charles nodded even though she had her back to him. "Yes, ma'am, I look forward to it. I really can't thank you enough." He said for the nth time that night.

"I've told you before, you're doing me more of a favor than I'm doing you." She said turning and taping his nose with her index finger. "Ah, Sebastian's here."

Charles quickly made his way to the door and opened it for the man standing outside with an umbrella. Instead of friendly greeting like Mrs. Frost had given him Sebastian Shaw glared at him and asked "Who the hell are you?"

Mrs. Frost's casual threat of 'my future son-in-law is the chief of police here' from earlier seemed to magnify in effectiveness now that Charles actually laid eyes on the man. He was clearly someone everyone would want to stay on the good side of. Charles at the moment was speechless, unable to answer the man's question so he was thankful when Mrs. Frost stepped in.

"He's my new shop boy and tenant for the apartment upstairs." She explained heading over to Shaw. "His name is Charles Xavier and he's new in town. Try to make him feel welcome."

Shaw's expression softened but only slightly as he turned his attention back to Charles who was looking him over with the most stunning blue eyes anyone could possibly ever see.

The man standing in front of Charles seemed to be too young to hold a position like chief of Police; he couldn't be any older than twenty-three, twenty-five maximum. He was certainly handsome, tall with broad shoulders and an angular face. His sharp, ice blue eyes watched Charles like a hawk watched a field mouse and his dark brown hair was disheveled but there was evidence that it had once been combed back out of the way of his face.

Charles assumed that the man had been pulled from bed by his future mother-in-law's call, just like she had said she's have to do, and was not happy about it, which would account for his attitude as well as his appearance. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Charles quickly said when he finally noticed that the man had picked up on his staring.

"Let's go." Shaw turned his attention away from Charles and to Mrs. Frost who frowned at his dismissive attitude toward Charles.

Instead of going out with him she turned to Charles, "I could have sworn his mother, my old friend, raised him better than this." She smiled, slipping him the store's key and pat his cheek before turning to Shaw and walking out with him.

Charles smiled and looked at the key in his hands then out the door after them. As he watched them walk to Shaw's car he got that feeling again and looked around. That time however he could have swear he saw someone standing in the alley across the street watching him.

Quickly he shut the door and locked it before looking back out. He saw the car drive away but no one in the alley. He shook his head and turned to head up to his new apartment, the rest of his belonging could wait in the car until morning.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Shaw entered the store and made a direct B-line toward Charles. By his expression Charles could tell he was not in a good mood this morning and pissing him off farther would be an extremely unwise move. The trouble with that was that the man seemed to get more pissed off by just being around Charles.

He was just about to ask what Shaw needed when the man held his hand up to silence him. "Don't even speak. Just point me in the direction I can find Annette in."

Charles frowned; he hadn't seen Mrs. Frost for the last two days, not since he had dropped her off at her house after they closed the store for the night. "She's not been here for two days."

There was a subtle change in Shaw's usually cold expression but was gone just as soon as it appeared. "Alright then, get back to work." Shaw turned to leave to store but Charles reached across the counter and grabbed the sleeve of his suit. The man rounded on him, clearly that had not been the wisest move on Charles' part.

He pushed the slight fear he felt from having the man's murderous glare locked on him away because something had twisted in his gut upon seeing the changed expression and he was concerned for his elderly boss more than for his own life. "Why, is something wrong?"

Shaw leaned in closer as if about to whisper something to him, his expressions slightly softer than normal. "_Keep your hands off of me_." He hissed coldly and pulled the sleeve of his suit out of Charles' grasp with a sharp yank.

Charles looked up at the older man in slight surprise when the fabric was pulled away from him but quickly it changed to an expression of frustration. "Shaw, tell me what's going on! She's my boss."

Shaw turned away from him without another word and headed toward the door. Charles looked around the store, there were only a couple girls and he didn't think they would steal anything from the store so he ran out from behind the register to follow Shaw but the man was already out the door.

Charles was about to follow him out of the store and stop him in the street until he got an answer but as soon as he was about to cross the threshold two things stopped him. The first was a strange presence keeping him from going out of the store; it felt as if the door was still closed in front of him, he could get close but not cross. The next thing that stopped him was the fact Moira was crossing the street and heading toward the used book store.

Moira was, in his opinion, the most gorgeous girl in town. She had beautiful auburn hair and chestnut eyes he could easily get lost in but she was not only beautiful, she was smart and witty and so carefree that it rubbed off on anyone that was around her. Charles always felt so at ease talking to her when she came to the store to get a new book to read.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the first day that Mrs. Frost had decided not to come in. She had told him over the phone that she was sick and that's why she couldn't make it in but he could hear others talking in the background. After hanging up with her he decided it would be funny if he asked how that bridge game he heard them talking about went next time she came into the store.

With a smile he turned his full attention back to the empty shop. This was an amazing place, it was too bad people rarely came here but the more he looked around the more he saw why.

There were probably more dust bunnies in the store than there were books! Now some of those bunnies would give the store a nice atmosphere but with the amount there currently were people who weren't even allergic to dust would go running out of the store coughing up a lung.

Charles frowned slightly as he thought; he had remembered seeing a broom somewhere but he couldn't remember exactly where. He walked out from behind the resister and began poking around the store. He searched high and low for ten minutes before he let out a huff of air, about to give up, when the broom's location popped in his head.

He ran to the back of the store and opened the door that revealed stairs that went up to his apartment. He took the steps two at a time and looked around once at the top.

The apartment was small but it had a bed/living room, a bathroom and a small kitchen, which was good enough for him. He had been living here a week now and he still had a few boxes to unpack, but they were mostly book he had read a million times and he was debating putting them in the store down stairs. He looked around the apartment with a small smile then spotted the closet and walked over to it.

The door liked to stick so he had to yank it open, which had him on his ass the first time he tried, since he'd started using it more it didn't stick as much. Inside the small closet were all his button ups, vests and cardigans he loved to wear, all neatly hung up and organized. He shoved them out of the way so he could get to the back where he had stored the broom after cleaning his apartment which had also been dust covered but was now spotless.

Cain had always made fun of him for being a neat freak and slightly OCD. He didn't care what his stepbrother said tough he always thought that was better being like he was than being like Cain or Kurt who both left everything around for the maids to clean up. The maids had always made sure to get back at them in some way, most of the time they didn't notice it but Charles knew, even helped the maids plot.

He turned and headed back down stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up, carrying the broom under his arm.

Charles walked to the front door and propped it open so there was a way for the dust to escape from before he got to work. He started sweeping the back of the store so he could work his way to the front. Dust flew into the air as soon as the broom touched the wood and he coughed, quickly unrolling one of his sleeves so he could cover his mouth and nose as he worked.

It didn't take long to get from the back of the store to the front but the dust kept settling back down on the part of the floor that he had already cleaned. He was just about to redo it when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. It had made him jump; he was normally so good with sensing when someone was near him.

Turning around he saw the prettiest girl he'd ever seen standing in the front of the shop swatting dust away from her face. He was at a loss for words as he stared at her and it only got worse when she stared back. It took him a long time before he was able to think of anything to say that wouldn't come out as something that would make him look like an idiot.

He was nineteen but after being kept inside and focusing on his studies in school he had never… really learned how to talk to beautiful girls. He had had a few girls that were friends but there was no chance of them being anything but friends because none of them liked him or boys at all for that matter.

"Can I help you?"

Charles stared in confusion when she was the one that asked if she could help him. "I should be asking you that. I work here."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Where's Mrs. Frost? She owns this store and last I checked was the only one that worked here."

Charles wrinkled his nose at her somewhat rude behavior. "You've not been here in a while then. Mrs. Frost didn't come in today. So how can I help _you_?"

The girl frowned and adjusted her messenger bag on her shoulder. "Oh. Well Mrs. Frost was holding a book for me, I came to get it."

Charles licked his lower lip and nodded, remembering something that his elderly boss had said to him about a girl named Moira and a book she wanted. "You're Moira?"

She nodded. "And you are?"

"My name is Charles Xavier." He smiled kindly and held his hand out to her for a handshake. Instead of taking his hand like most people would she just stared at his hand until he lowered it and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You wanted Heartsick* by Chelsea-"

"Cain, Yes."

Charles nodded again and turned away from her. He had remembered putting the book on the back shelf, in the wrong section so he could remember it. He grabbed it and read the back of the book as he headed back to her. "Kind of a dark interest in books you have Miss Moira." He said with a small smirk. "Serial killers and what appears to be Stockholm syndrome?"

She just stared at him before snatching the book from his grasp. "I already paid Mrs. Frost so I'm leaving now." With that she turned and marched to the door before she stopped. "You missed a really big spot."

Charles looked around before realizing she was talking about the whole store. He looked back and watched he walk out of the store. He smiled to himself and began sweeping again.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

The first day he had met her hadn't been the best way to start off a friendships or even an acquaintanceship but after that day she had come back more and more to look for books. After her third visit she actually struck up a conversation with him about what type of books he liked instead of just asking what he what books he would recommend then telling him to shut up after he said a book title. Her fourth visit he had gotten her to laugh, it was short lived but still a beautiful sound.

He was determined after that to make her smile and laugh whenever she came into the store which in recent days was easy because as soon as she saw him she smiled and brushed he hair back.

Today was no different but Charles was torn between going after Shaw and staying to talk to Moira. Chewing his lip he gave her a half wave as she walked over to him. "Hey Charles. Why are you standing in the doorway?"

He looked from her to Shaw who had gotten across the street and was unlocking his car. "Moira, can you watch the store for me?" She opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her with a finger over her soft lips. "I know Mrs. Frost would kill me but something is going on and I need to talk to Shaw."

Moira frowned and averted her gaze, much like a little girl would if she didn't get what she wanted.

"Come on, Moira." He pleaded, grabbing her shoulders for emphasis. "Please."

Her frown slowly turned to a smile and she nodded. "Oh, Okay. You owe me though!"

"You're the best." Charles grinned and kissed her cheek before he ran off after Shaw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter I****I****  
><strong>**Killer**

Charles ran across the street after glancing both ways, a forced habit his mother had him do when he was younger. He caught up to Shaw just as the man opened the door of his sleek black car. Shaw never used a real police car even when he was on the job, always said there was no need because nothing that needed dire attention ever happened in North Hero.

Charles pushed the car door shut before the man could get inside, he did it as a way of grabbing Shaw's attention and showing he was serious. Charles had a feeling Shaw didn't think of him as anything more than a little kid that should be ignored. "Shaw, if you're going to her place I'm going too. I need to know if something has happened."

Shaw stared at him with one eyebrow slightly raised, surprised at how firm Charles was suddenly trying to be. The boy had been a pain in his side since the day he came to town. He was weaseling his way into Shaw's mother-in-law's life which was screwing up his and Emma's plans.

He may be engaged to Emma Frost but neither of them loved each other, they both just wanted as much power as they could get in the town and the mayor marrying the chief of police would be the best way to achieve that shared goal. The only thing Shaw was looking forward to in this marriage was Emma's inheritance; they would both get the money when the old lady passed but Charles was slowly becoming a threat to that, even Emma wanted him out of the picture.

"Shaw! Did you hear me?" Charles snapped when Shaw seemed to just ignore his demand. He hated the stare Shaw was giving him; it just said everything that came out of his mouth was going in one ear then right out the other. "I don't care if you don't want me to, I'm going!" Charles marched over to the passenger side of the car and opened the door before sitting down and slamming the door shut.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

The strong smell of iron filled the room wafting up from the dried blood that stained the ugly yellow carpet and clung to the flowered walls and ceiling in some places. There were bullet holes from a shot gun in the wall in various places as well as glass and other objects that had been thrown. The room was a mess, showing that the one who's blood this was had fought back for as long as they could before the inevitable blood loss got to them.

The body lay crumpled up on the floor in a pool of dried crimson. Mrs. Frost's mouth was open slightly, blood leaking from the corner of her lips. She was covered in deep gashes that had come from a silver blade her husband had owned that was stabbed deep into her back. A shot gun lay at her side where she had dropped it before she fell.

Her open, dead eyes were locked on a man that sat in front of her on the couch staring straight back into those eyes.

He was leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees while one hand rubbed his slightly stubble covered chin and his eyebrows forrowed as if he was staring in confusion at what he had done.

Unlike the rest of the room the man was clean, his clothes were fresh, taken from his duffle bag that was lying by the door, his hair was combed back but still wet from a shower he had taken not too long after Mrs. Frost had died. There wasn't a spot of blood on him, not even on the wound he had received from a bullet grazing his left shoulder and had to stitch up himself.

"You shouldn't have come home." He said calmly as he kept eye contact with the glazed over eyes of the corpse only a few feet away from him. His voice as thick with an accent, some kind of a mix of German and Polish, as he continued, "I was only after your husband…"

His eyes slowly tore away from the body's and slid over to rest on a silver urn with a name inscribed on it below the letters 'R I P.' "Only it turns out I was two years too late." He sighed. He had come here for revenge on the man whose remains currently rested in the silver case on the mantle but after he had broken in and searched the house he had found the man whose life he wanted had already died and was going to leave without shedding a single drop of blood.

When he had been just about to leave, since the thing he had come for couldn't be obtained, this woman, the man's wife, had come home. She found him before he could leave and had seen his face. He couldn't have her report a break in to the cops and give a description of him so they could find him, he still had people to hunt down and he would not be arrested on the count of a botched break in.

The woman had grabbed a gun and he had grabbed the first weapon he could find which was ironic because the weapon he found was technically one of the reasons he had found himself here in the first place. It was the SS honour dagger, given to members who were recognized for special achievements during WWII.

During the war his mother had taken him and fled Poland when his father had been captured by the Nazis but it wasn't long before they were tracked down and captured by men that earned daggers like this one. He had been three when his mother had been captured.

Instead of simply taking them to the camps like they did with the other Polish Jews they found that had tried to flee they had decided to have a bit of fun. They ripped his mother's clothes off and raped her, forcing him to watch and listen to her cries. When she thought it was over they had taken a dagger just like this one and gutted her. Making him, as he screamed and cried, watch while his mother bled out in front of him.

He could still remember her screams and the taste of iron rich blood that hung in the air that day.

The memory had caught him off guard and allowed the woman to load her gun and shoot at him, which was what pulled him from his thoughts and how he had gotten the graze. After that the fight as short lived, the woman as old and in no shape to stand up to a man like him who had been training and hunting ex Nazis for the greater part of his life.

The room was trashed when she finally gave into blood lose and fell down. It was then he took the knife a stabbed it deep into her back, feeling it puncture through her spine. Much like the rest of the room he had been left covered in her blood and could feel it slowly dying on his skin.

It was a feeling he was used to by now, something that actually made him feel alive in a twisted way but the fight was over and she was dead so he wanted it off. Staring down at the body with his cold blue-green gaze he smiled faintly as he looked at the expressionless face. Glancing around the room he realized what a mess they had made. When his eyes came to rest on his gloved hands, the leather shined with blood but it felt as if it was actually on his hands, not just staining his gloves.

It had technically been the blood of an innocent that should never have died. He had killed innocent people before but no matter how many times he did it never made the fact they weren't meant to die any easier. He had to get clean.

He had used the woman's shower to get the blood off his skin and disposed of his blood soaked clothes. Once dressed in a fresh turtleneck and slacks he cleaned his shoes and put them on then combed his hair back before dropping his duffle bag, the only thing he ever carried with him, beside the door so he could leave.

Walking over to the couch he sat down to look at his work a moment longer and that's where he had remained for the past few hours, just staring at the body.

"You'd still be alive if you hadn't come home." He said as he bowed his head and stood up.

He walked over to the door a grabbed his black duffle bag and was about to open the door when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut. He quickly moved to a window and peered through the curtains so he could see outside without having to move the fabric.

Outside was a sleek black car and two men. One was heading toward the door while the other as yelling something after him and still getting out of the car. The younger one looked familiar. The way his dark hair curled back, barely touching his forehead, the natural curve of his red lips that stood out against his creamy white skin that looked soft to the touch, they all seemed so familiar.

It was those eyes that gave him away though. He had only seen one pair that shade of magnificent blue before and they had been on a boy he had seen in a cemetery when he was in New York about a month back but that night they had been wet with glistening tears waiting to fall.

Those eyes had haunted him since the moment he saw them sparkling in the dim lights of the cemetery.

No matter what he did he couldn't seem to escape those eyes and now the blue eyed boy was here, a different type of sparkle in his hypnotic eyes as he closed the car door and marched up to the other man.

He never believed in coincidences, so seeing this boy again after this long and this far from New York had to have some kind of deeper meaning. Maybe it was God's plan or something akin to destiny that their paths crossed again but nevertheless the boy was _here_.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

"Shaw, wait up!" Charles yelled after Shaw as he finally managed to get the door open. It had required rolling down the window and opening the car door from the outside since Shaw had some kind of Child safety lock on the passenger door. When he finally stumbled out of the car Shaw was already walking up the steps to the front door, completely ignoring his request.

The whole ride over had been uncomfortably silent and the atmosphere in the car was so tense it could be cut knife. Charles had tried to keep serious the whole time, practically glaring out the front window, while Shaw blocked his very existence out. There was one point when Shaw looked over at him and he was very sure the man was imagining or debating throwing him out of the car.

Charles straightened up and adjusted his shirt before he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed after Shaw.

On his way up the front steps he stopped, he could feel someone's eyes on him and he felt a shiver run up his spine, spreading through his whole body. Looking around he saw no one but Shaw, whose back was facing him, and a few cars drive by on the street. He tried pushing the feeling aside but when he started walking again the closer he got to the door the more intense the feeling became.

Shaw was at the door, ringing the doorbell and knocking to give Mrs. Frost a chance to answer before he had to break the lock or something. Charles stopped beside him and looked up at him as he impatiently tapped his foot while he glanced at his watch.

Charles looked from the policeman to the dark wooden door in front of them, silently praying that his employer would hurry up and come to the door already so they could know if she was alright. Something twisted in his gut, telling him that something was terribly wrong here and that they should just walk away. He took a small step back and looked up at Shaw who was staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Aren't you going to break down the door?" He asked, trying to pass off his backing away as getting out of Shaw's way.

Shaw rolled his eyes and shifted through his pockets until he pulled out a pair of keys. He dangled them in front of Charles' face, making them bounce and jiggle like what someone does when they're playing with a small kitten. "I'm engaged to her daughter, so I have a key. Think it through."

Charles glared at the older man and shoved the keys out of his face. "Open the damn door already then!" He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

A smirk slowly unfolded on Shaw' face as he turned away from the now irritated Charles so he could unlock the door. Even when unlocked the door wouldn't open so Shaw had to force it open. Ramming his shoulder into the door as he turned the doorknob easily did the trick and the door swung open.

Charles silently followed Shaw inside but was suddenly shoved back as Shaw quickly grabbed his gun. "Stay by the door." He ordered sharply as he walked farther into the house.

He took another step back, putting a bit more safe distance between himself and Shaw's gun but it didn't take long for a spark of curiosity as to why he was shoved back to form in the back of his mind. Charles took a few steps farther into the house and peered around the corner into the living room. His eyes widened to comical proportions as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

There was blood everywhere. The amount there was couldn't have all come from one person, it just couldn't have. The rich smell of drying blood and already decaying flesh hung in the air causing waves of nausea so strong he had to lean against the wall and cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve to fight off the dizziness.

He took in the splatter trails that were caused by the swift flick of a knife and the pools of blood leading to…

Charles gagged, "Shaw, i-is…" He couldn't finish his sentence as his stomach flipped and he fought back the urge to vomit but the older man looked back at him and with a short nod answered the unfinished question.

He stared at the body a moment longer before he gagged again and he knew he had to leave. Stumbling out of the house he nearly tripped over the threshold. He was trying to wrap his mind around what he'd just seen. He had gotten close to Mrs. Frost over the past few weeks and now she was gone, murdered in what looked like the worst way possible. Tears edges forward and ran steadily down his cheeks as he descended the front steps.

Charles felt his stomach flip again and he knew he couldn't fight back the urge to vomit any longer. He veered off the steps and into the front lawn where he doubled over as he threw up the contents of his mostly empty stomach.

He dug his short nails into the hard earth as he felt the burn of acid at the back of his throat and shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He got back up and looked over at the door just as Shaw emerged, a smirk stretched across his thin face.

Charles felt the urge to yell at him, what the hell was wrong with him, the man's soon-to-be mother-in-law was dead and he was smiling about it? "Are-aren't you gonna call-call for back-up?" Was the question that came out instead, his voice trembling as much as the rest of him was at the moment.

"I did already but I think I already have a suspect."

Charles was just about to ask who Shaw thought it was when he found himself being forced to the ground. "You were the last one to see her alive." Shaw grinned as he grabbed both of Charles' wrists.

"You think I did th-that? That's insane, Shaw! I-I would—"

"You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it for once." The older man hissed in his ear as he clapped the handcuffs on Charles.

As Shaw continued to recite Charles' rights he pulled him up by his hair and led him to his car. He shoved Charles carelessly into the backseat, not bothering to protect him from hitting his head like he was supposed to when arresting someone.

"Shaw, you know I didn't do this!" He pleaded just as the car door was slammed shut.

Shaw turned his back to the car where Charles was still trying to convince him he was crazy for even thinking it could be him. Truth be told by Charles' reaction to the scene he could tell the teen hadn't done it but the thought of arresting him sounded too sweet for him pass up. He walked back over to the steps and frowned, he'd have to tell Emma if someone at the department hadn't already called her as soon as he called them and told them to get here.

Shaw knew how to handle a situation such as this one; he had seen crime scenes like this one when he was a detective in New York City. Most of the time they weren't this intense but he had seen some at this level and others worse than this. In fact he had moved up to North Hero to get away from seeing things like this on a daily basis.

"Shaw! What happened?"

He turned and saw Emma jumping out of the back of a car. She ran onto the sidewalk and made her way to the front door but he quickly stopped her, pulling her back to him and holding her in a tight embrace. "You don't want to go in there."

She stared up at him in slightly horrified shock, "it can't be that bad, can it?"

He couldn't tell her it was worse than she could imagine, he didn't want to have to deal with her being even more emotional than she already was, which for someone who just lost their mother was quite controlled he noted.

"Why is he in there?" Emma asked, glaring over Shaw's shoulder at the boy in the back of his car. He could see a small smirk pulling at her painted lips even now as tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"He had insisted on coming with me from the shop and he was the last one to see her alive so I'm going to take him in for questioning once those lazy bastards get here." Shaw hissed and just like those were the magic words two other police cars pulled up in front of the house.

The men got out and Shaw made Emma go back to her office then gave the orders on what the others should do when handling this investigation. He knew most had never seen something like this before but he also knew that the ones that had could manage the situation so he was free to take Charles in.

After assigning tasks he turned around and headed over to his car where Charles was sitting back with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The only words to come out of him when Shaw got in the car were, "Let's get this over with."


	4. Chapter 4

Soo… did I ever mention Charles is sorta straight in this one? XD  
>Geez... I really need to hurry up with all my updates. ^^;<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III<br>Be my savior**

The drive to the police station had been as uncomfortable as the drive to the house had been. Charles' head throbbed painfully where he hit it when he had been shoved into the car but instead of addressing Shaw on his misuse of power he spent the entire time thinking of answers to any of Shaw's possible questions. He didn't want to leave any gaps so he would stop being a suspect and Shaw could find the real man responsible for this horrifying mess.

They got to the police station in no time and Shaw pulled him out of the car with the same care that he used to put him in it. This time when he hit his head Charles cursed quietly and glared at the detective who just smiled at him. He opened his mouth to tell Shaw he was going to report him for battering a suspect but he immediately shut it again remembering that Shaw held the highest position at the police station and the only one above him was his fiancé, the mayor.

"What was that?" Shaw asked leading him inside, not bothering to suppress a laugh when Charles tripped over the threshold; however, he was nice enough to stop him from falling flat on his face.

"Nothing." Charles hissed under his breath as his mentally cursed Shaw and Mayor Frost.

How did Emma Frost become mayor anyway? Most women were still fighting to be treated as equals to men. How did she get to be in such a strong position in this day and age? Not that he had something against woman having equal rights as men, he was all for it; it just made no sense to him. She had to be put in place by Shaw or maybe her father put her in the position before he died. Charles had always meant to ask Mrs. Frost about it…

He felt his stomach turn when he thought about Mrs. Frost's body lying in the drying puddle of blood. "I-I'm gonna be sick." He managed to announce before he started to gag. He heard Shaw make a noise of disgust as he shoved him to his knees in front of the nearest trashcan.

Charles threw up only stomach acid. It burned the back of his throat and left an even more bitter taste in his mouth than when he had thrown up at Mrs. Frost's. He rested his head on the rim of the trashcan and sighed as his stomach tried to right itself.

"Get up." Shaw grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him to his feet and dragged him off before he had time to get his footing.

He was taken to an interrogation room and shoved into an uncomfortable metal chair. The room was cold and so brightly lit that Charles had to squint until his eyes had adjusted enough to the light to be fully open. "I love this place, very cop movie. Aren't you supposed to take my prints and pho-"

"Shut up." Shaw snapped, meeting Charles' glare with a slight smirk of amusement.

"I get a phone call." Charles smiled smugly as he shifted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. He didn't have anyone to call, Kurt and Cain were out of the country and probably wouldn't help him even if they weren't and he didn't know any of his other family, but the annoyed look on Shaw's face was priceless.

"You'll get that after I process you and after we finish here." Shaw masked his irritation with a smile as he sat across the cold metal table from Charles.

"Will you take these off?" He asked as he tugged at the handcuffs. They were biting painfully into his wrists causing angry red marks on his pale skin.

Shaw smirked. "No, I think I like you in them."

That comment caught both of them by surprise. Charles was shocked to hear the police chief say something of that nature and though Shaw maintained a blank face he was amazed with himself for actually letting something like that slip. It wasn't as though Charles could do much to him but if the other men were here and heard that they might think him queer for a comment like that.

"A-are you-?" Charles didn't want to even say the word 'gay,' it wasn't that he had an issue with it if Shaw was (he believed _everyone_ should have equal rights) but he didn't want any type of those feelings directed at him. His mother made sure he knew exactly what happened to men that liked other men when he was growing up, she made sure to scare him straight even though he already was straight.

Shaw started blankly at him from across the table. "Of course not."

Charles shifted uncomfortably under that stare, there was something in the man's eyes that made a strange heat spark to life inside of him causing him the shiver.

"Alright." He wasn't sure if he believed the older man or not but it would be best not to anger him or lead him to possibly believe that Charles was…

Without another word on the subject Shaw leaned forward over the table and changed back to the more important reason they were there. "When exactly was the last time you saw Mrs. Frost?"

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Shaw pulled Charles down the hall by his arm causing the handcuffs to bite deeper into his skin. His wrists felt raw at this point. He had gotten angry during questioning and pulled too much at his restraints as he told Shaw off.

At one point he had stood up to leave he was so angry but Shaw, who was walking round the room during the questioning, had grabbed him by the back of the neck and roughly bent him over the metal table. He had struggled to get free of Shaw's grasp, the words he had spoken about liking Charles in handcuffs playing over in his mind causing slight fear to bubble to the surface. Shaw had just done it as a way to force him to calm down but that didn't stop the images of the things that could have happened from filling Charles' mind.

After questioning Shaw had let one of his hands go and handcuffed the other one to the table while he took his fingerprints and had him fill out contact information so he could call his stepfather and alert him of Charles' arrest. Charles had given his childhood home in Westchester's phone number and address, even though he knew Kurt wouldn't be there. He was cuffed again and his picture was taken to go with his file. He protested the whole time saying that none of it was necessary because he was innocent and Shaw knew that but the man just smiled at him from behind the camera and said it was for future references, just in case, which sadly made enough sense to him that he stopped being difficult.

They passed through double doors and stopped at the large holding cell which was unsurprisingly empty except the town drunk that was thrown in every other day. Charles quickly looked around as Shaw uncuffed him. He spotted a phone. "Phone call! I get a phone call."

"I'll take care of that. You get to stay in here." Shaw opened the cell and shoved him in before shutting and locking it back.

Charles had stumbled into the cell but wheeled around once he got his footing. He grabbed the bars and glared at Shaw. "No, I get to make a call."

"You'll get out of here when your father comes to pick you up." Shaw smiled and walked off.

"You can't do that!" Charles called after him, panicking because he knew Shaw wouldn't be able to reach Kurt and even if he could the man wouldn't come to get him, he'd laugh and make a joke about Charles manning up enough to commit a crime.

"Shaw!" He watched Shaw leave through the double doors as if he hadn't said anything at all. He shook the bars out of frustration before letting them go.

Taking a step back he looked around. The town drunk, whose name he didn't know, was lying on the bench, most likely sleeping through a hangover. He sighed and leaned against the bars. He didn't know what he was going to do if he was truly stuck in here until they got a hold of Kurt or they caught the real killer.

Just as he closed his eyes he heard the other man began to wake up. He glanced over offering a friendly smile to the man that was staring at him. He looked away and closed his eyes again.

"Come here." The man called over and Charles looked back at him. He was patting the space on the bench next to him with a friendly smile but at the same time there was something unsettling in his eyes that made Charles feel uncomfortable.

"I'm alright here." He smiled in return, unconsciously pressing himself closer to the bars.

"Seriously, come here pretty little girl. I have something I want you to have." The more the man spoke the more Charles picked up on the slurred wording; he knew the man was still drunk and that it would be better to stay away from him. He frowned as the man licked his lips and started fondling himself through his trousers as he stared at Charles.

"Sir, I'm not a girl." Charles quickly corrected shifting uncomfortably where he stood. He didn't know what to do in this situation. He was in a cell with a man that was touching himself because he thought he was a girl. As long as the man stayed over there where he was then things would only be extremely uncomfortable and that was better than anything else.

"I bet I can prove you wrong." The man laughed and stood up. Charles felt himself press farther into the bars as if hoping his body would somehow become thin though to slip through them.

"I would much appreciate it if you sat back down." Charles said firmly but tried to stay at least somewhat polite since he didn't know this man, the manners his mother had always taught him stuck even in a situation like this.

As the man got closer Charles saw he was significantly taller than himself who merely stood at 5'7''while this man had to be something over six feet tall. The man wasn't only tall he was also huge. Charles couldn't tell if it was muscle or fat but judging by the belly he'd have guessed fat. Charles was by no means weak, he could defend himself fairly well, years of being beaten up by Cain taught him that, but he doubted he could take someone this much bigger than him.

"_Back up now_." Charles ordered, forgetting all manners when the man was far too close for comfort.

The man took a step back and held his hands up as if warding Charles off then he suddenly seemed to change his mind and grabbed Charles. "Be a good girl, beautiful."

"Get off!" He pulled away from the man and managed to punch him in the face. Charles hadn't expected his hand to hurt as much as it did after the impact, it hadn't hurt this much when he hit Cain, then again he never punched Cain in the face or else Kurt would have punished him. He gasped from the pain and shook his hand. Luckily it seemed to hurt the man a lot more than it did him.

The man stepped back and held his cheek where Charles' fist had landed. He growled and grabbed Charles again forcing him up against the bars. "I do like a girl with a bit of fight in her."

"Get off me!" This close Charles could spell the stench of alcohol on the man's breath and his stomach turned, still uneasy from when he threw up before. "Sir you're drunk, why don't you go sleep it off on the bench?"

"A pretty girl like you doesn't get put in with me that often."

"Sir, I'm not a g-"

The man grabbed his neck with one hand, squeezing just enough to make it hard for him to breathe. Charles felt panic starting to take over. He needed to get this pervert off. He dug his nails into the man's wrist and tried to pull his hand off of him but to no avail. He mentally cursed but didn't stop trying to get the man off.

He didn't notice the man was touching himself again, getting off on his vulnerable state, until he was panting and grunting. Charles wanted to get away more than anything, this man was a drunk pervert and he was locked in a cell with him.

_Maybe if I got Shaw's attention he would help,_ he thought but as soon as he opened his mouth to call for the officer the man's grip tightened and all the came out was a strangled noise.

He couldn't breathe at all now and the man seemed to be enjoying that. He laughed at Charles as he tried to breath, desperately needing to get the air that was just out of his reach. His mind was starting to go fuzzy and his vision darkened so he did the first thing he thought of to get the man off of him fast. He rammed his knee into the man's crotch.

He knew it was a cheap shot but the man instantly let him go try to recover. He doubled over wheezing and Charles ran to the other side of the cell, the one closer to Shaw's office, hoping it would give him a bit of an advantage in reaching the man.

"Shaw!" He screamed shaking the bars, "SHAW! _PLEASE_ HELP, SH-" A hand closed over his mouth, muffling the rest of his cry.

"Shut up, you filthy little bitch." The man hissed.

Charles' eyes widened when he felt the man's clothed erection pressed against him. He had been hoping he would have stayed down longer than he did. A kick in the crotch was one thing but when it was erect it hurt ten times more. He started rubbing himself against Charles, moaning into his ear as he held him up against the bars.

He bit the hand over his mouth as hard as he could, hoping the man would pull it back so he could scream for Shaw's help again. Instead he heard soft, breathy laughter coming from behind him as the man forced his fingers into Charles' mouth and grinded harder against him.

Charles made a quiet noise, something close to a whimper as the man kept up his assault.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Shaw was sitting in his office with a newspaper in hand, waiting to hear back from the team over at Mrs. Frost's house. Charles had proven as useless as he thought he would be but it had been fun to watch him fidget under the pressure of questioning. He had decided that a nice way to conclude Charles' trip to the station would be to let him stay in a cell over night or until relatives came to pick him up, whichever came first.

At least Charles was only in the town drunk, a man who never did anything to anyone that shared a cell with him because he was normally passed out on the bench. If Charles was in a cell with anyone else it probably would have resulted in him becoming someone's bitch within the first few minutes of him being in there. The teen was too attractive for his own good.

Shaw's eye twitched, had he really just admitted that he thought that Charles was 'attractive?' He did have to admit he was more eye catching than most in town and his eyes were amazing, so brilliant blue that they almost looked fake and the curve of those red lips would be pleasant for any girl to have against hers and he truly couldn't deny Charles had a body that asked to be touched and treated roughly…

His mind drifted farther away from the paper he held in his hands to when he was handcuffing the boy, what it felt like to have that body beneath his, helpless because he couldn't fight back or it would be resisting arrest. Shaw could have done anything he wanted to Charles at that point.

He smirked when he thought of the way Charles had acted so firm with him when he demanded to be taken to the house. That had been laughably cu—

Shaw shook his head to clear his mind of the sick thoughts that were trying to take over his mind. The fact he thought of a boy, even if that boy was Charles, like he would a girl was disturbing. He closed his eyes and thought of Emma. The heated blood that had begun to pool in his lower abdomen, the beginning of an erection, quickly dispersed throughout the rest of his body as the thought of his fiancé calmed him.

He opened his eyes again when he thought he heard his name but jumped slightly, finding a man standing silently in front of his desk. "Can I help you?" He asked calmly, closing his paper and setting it aside then folding his hands on his desk in a businesslike manner.

"I'm here about the boy you brought in earlier."

Shaw narrowed his gaze slightly; he had never seen this person around town before. North Hero was a small town, everyone knew everyone else and Shaw certainly didn't know this person. Maybe it was Charles' step-father; he had called the man earlier to inform him that Charles had been arrested but the call had gone to a machine so he could only leave a message. "You mean Charles Xavier?"

The man seemed to get a faraway, almost wistful look in his eyes before he nodded, "Yes… _Charles_."

There was something to how he said the teen's name that caught Shaw's attention, he wasn't sure what it was he had picked up on, something akin to longing perhaps but that couldn't be right. "Who are you in relation to him?"

"I'm his cousin, Max Eisenhardt." The man said flatly as he gazed emotionlessly across the desk at the police officer.

"I called his step-father, Kurt Marko."

"I was sent instead."

They stared at each other in a tense silence before the man cracked a huge grin, the most unnerving smile Shaw had ever seen, and said "Sooner would be better than later. I have places to be."

Shaw nodded and stood up. "Stay here. Sit." He pointed to one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk that the man, Max, was standing near, half wanting to handcuff him to the one he sat himself down in. He couldn't put his finger on it but there was something he didn't like or trust about this man.

"I'll be back with him." He said before stepping out of his office.

He couldn't get that look that came over Max's face when he said Charles' name out of his head. There was something more behind that, something worth being concerned about and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hand Charles over to this man.

He walked to the double doors leading to the holding cell and glanced back at his office seeing the man pick up and look at his picture of Emma before putting it back down. He put on a blank face and pushed open the doors. "You're lucky, Charles. Someone came to get—"

He froze seeing Charles was pressed tightly between the town drunk and the bars of the cell, making it impossible for him to effectively fight back. The rims of his blue eyes were red from the tears in them and saliva dripped from the corner of his bruised lips as his mouth was being assaulted by the man's thick fingers.

Shaw couldn't stop staring at Charles. It was honestly arousing to see the boy like this, so helpless.

When Charles spotted him his eyes widened and he fought back even more, desperately trying to get the man's fingers out of his mouth as he pushed away from the bars to try to throw the man off. It failed.

"I can't thank you enough for this little virgin, chief. She needs some training but she's gonna be so tight." The man smacked Charles' ass, earning a whimper from him. Shaw shook his head and rushed to open the cell door so he could help Charles.

He threw open the door and ran over to the two. He grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and pulled him off of Charles. "Get the hell off him, Frederick."

The man stumbled backward, unable to get his footing, he fell. Shaw positioned himself between him and Charles, glaring down at the drunken man, a look of cold disgust written on his face. If he got up and tried touching the boy again Shaw was going to snap and beat him back down. Fred seemed to understand the threat behind Shaw's glare and he stayed where he was but that didn't stop his mouth "Give her back. I was almost done training her perfect mouth to take my cock. She'll love it."

Shaw turned to Charles who was still pressed to the bars, fingers wrapped around them in a white knuckled grip. He reached out and pulled him away from the bars. When he finally let go and stepped back his knees were weak and he looked as if about to collapse so Shaw grabbed him and helped him to stay up.

Charles clung to him, his eyes shut tight as tears of embarrassment rolled down his cheeks. They stood like this for a few silent moments; Shaw could feel the boy's erection against his leg and thought it best that he calm down before he took him out to Max.

He actually wanted to apologize to the trembling boy but he stayed silent instead.

"Get me out of here..." Charles pleaded hoarsely after a few moments. Shaw nodded and began leading Charles out of the cell.

When he saw they were leaving Fred got to his feet immediately. "Oh so you take her away so you can fuck her? At least let me taste her, she's probably dripping wet and ready like a 3 dollar whore."

Shaw saw Charles grow visibly paler as if he was about to vomit for the third time before he turned away from him to lock the cell door. "Shut up, Fred. Sleep it off." He growled.

He turned back to Charles who was already running through the double doors.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Erik picked up one of the other pictures on Shaw's desk and froze. It was a picture of Shaw, the blonde woman that was in most of the pictures and the man he had targeted plus the old woman he had killed. He started to recall seeing Shaw in some of the photos that had been at the old woman's house.

He frowned and set the picture back down before getting up from the seat. He glanced over to the double doors the man had disappeared behind just as Charles came running through them.

Immediately Erik stepped out of the office but stopped just outside the doorway. Charles was trying to calm himself. He looked terrified, upset and disheveled, his shirt was untucked and his hair wasn't combed just so like it had been when he'd been at the house. He was right about to ask what happened when Shaw came through the double doors and grabbed Charles by the arm, startling him.

Shaw said something to the teen and his blue eyes snapped to Erik. It was clear by the look in his eye and the slight change in his expression that he recognized him from the cemetery. His beautiful lips parted as they tried and failed to form words to express the shock and confusion and slight fear on his face.

"You…" was all that came out of his mouth.

"Hello, again." Erik couldn't help but smile when Shaw brought Charles over to him. He felt the urge to reach out and gently right Charles' messy hair but he kept his hands at his sides. He couldn't touch someone like Charles, didn't have the right to. Charles was innocent and perfect; his skin untainted by the death and blood that coated every inch of Erik's own body.

Shaw practically shoved Charles at him. Luckily, the teen caught himself before Erik had to help right him. "Don't leave town and if you remember anything else call the station."

Erik could tell by the way the policeman was behaving he really didn't think that Charles did anything and he didn't have the slightest notion that Erik was the real culprit he was looking for, which made him smile. "Ready to go, Charles?"

Charles looked between the two men and shook his head, taking a step away from them. "I don't even know you."

"I'm Max Eisenhardt, you cousin on Kurt's side." He said, the lie was smooth and calm, confident even, like it was true.

Blue eyes narrowed to icy daggers. It almost looked like he was about to snap that he'd rather be in the cell than go with him but then he paled and his glares broke. "W-why were you at the cemetery?"

Erik glanced at Shaw who looked extremely disinterested and wanted nothing more than for them to leave already but it was clear Charles needed an answer before he would even take one step toward the door with him. "I heard about the death in the family and went to pay my respects."

"You weren't at the—"

"Burial? Yes, I was. I just didn't want to disturb you as you said your goodbyes." Erik stayed as vague as he could since he didn't really know who died. Maybe it was Charles' father since he had a stepfather now? Erik didn't want to risk being caught in the lie so he stayed away from specifics like that.

Luckily, Charles seemed to buy it. He nodded silently then looked from Erik to Shaw who was walking away from the two.

"I'll walk you home." Erik offered and received another silent nod.

~~~~~~~~~~'*'~~~~~~~~~~

Charles was silent the whole walk, he hand his arm wrapped around him as if protectively hugging himself as he moved down the sidewalk. Erik was sure that even if he did try to touch him the boy would jump away from him before he even laid a hand on him.

He suddenly stopped walking and Erik looked at the book store they stood in front of and frowned. "This is it." Charles said looking at the front door as if he wanted to run inside and lock the door as fast as he could.

Erik started at the familiar sight of the store for a moment longer before the pieces began to fall into place. The first night he had arrived in town to find Mr. Frost he had been watching Mrs. Frost at this exact store. She left it late at night with a tall man whose face Erik couldn't make out in the rain. That night he had also seen a boy with dark hair at the store. He arrived in a car late at night and stayed there. He realized now the boy had been Charles. They must have arrived in town at about the same time…

"It's a bookstore." Erik commented flatly, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. First they had seen each other at the cemetery then Erik finds him in the same town as one of his targets and now he's standing close enough that he could reach out and actually touch him if he wished to. This had to mean something.

"I have an apartment above it." Charles responded quietly. "I'd invite you in but I need to get back to close the store and I'm sure you have places to be."

He didn't but it was clear Charles wanted to be alone. He knew where he lived now. Maybe it would be a good idea to stay in town a while since he could see Charles whenever he wanted. "I will see you around."

After a nod and a quick goodbye Charles disappeared inside the book store.

There was something about the boy that attracted him like a moth to a flame. That night in the cemetery he'd felt something spark to life, something deep inside of him that he'd not felt before, a strange kind of _need_. If that had been the only time he was to see Charles he could have easily forgotten the feeling but it seemed the fates had a different plan for them. He knew where to find him now and he was going to take full advantage of it.

With a smile Erik turned away from the book store and walked off down the sidewalk.


End file.
